Nichols
by haloration
Summary: Dr. Jonathen Crane fround little interest in emotional attraction, and has never had an such an attatchment to anyone. But such things could change. Should it be continued?
1. Chapter one

**Note: Well, I suppose I am finally getting around to my disclaimer and introductions. I am horrible, lol, and I do apologize.**

**Introduction: This is primarily a Romance between Dr. Crane and An unknown character during the time of Batman Begins. This story is not to be made as a love story, but to give Crane emotion, and more depth than I found in the movie. Between the interaction he has with his love interest, the storyline will try to follow original Batman Begins events, and new events, which were not in an original script, but of my own creation, will be added. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original batman characters found in this story. Nor do I own any of the original plots, objects, places, or things found in movie, comic book, etc. I do however own the Character Corrine Nichols, who is completely a figment of my imagination.**

**Rating: for sexuality, adult themes, drug references, and language (eventually) ):).**

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She walked through the hallways quietly in a certain ease. The temporary occupants crowding her surroundings of Gotham's city courthouse passed beside her in either direction. Their intentions leading them in the direction of it's location, and in their thought of this topic, they did not see her, and she ignored them.

She was but one face in a scattered crowd of seven in any direction. One woman of no importance to their city or their government. Her background similar to any of theirs, she lived in simple ways, and was here only for similar reasons.

Dr. Jonathan Crane watched his patient nonchalantly as he sat within the court booth where his determination would be carried out. He was calm, and comfortable at the present with no distractions of significant importance, which was shown on his unaged face. The patient that sat before him was insignificant. Another man with a criminal background that held no interest for Dr. Crane. There was nothing intriguing about this man, who made his actions for reasons that were not a story of psychology that Crane had not met and analyzed so many times before. However, the sentence Dr. Crane was to place upon him would have suggested so, for the man was to be convicted of insanity, rendering him to become one of Dr. Crane's patients, Sending him to the Arkham Asylum rather than his sentence in prison.

Leaning forwards in his seat, Crane spoke into the microphone in a bland voice. Issuing that the man be put under professional psychological attendance. A simple movement that Crane had been issuing lately. Part of a certain plot involving human drug testing, particularly in hallucinogens that the author does not truly understand. Nor do the people of Gotham who would be interested in such a thing.

Collecting himself as the court time ended, Crane made an appearance of pleasantry. Acknowledging the few people in the large courtroom, designed of marble stone and dark benches that gleamed subtly in the midday sun, He excused himself from the area and made his way into the hallways of the building.

Jonathan Crane was very young for his level of profession. A psychologist majoring in phobias and human fears, he was assistant director of Gotham's Arkham Asylum. Dr. Crane was a pleasant young man, serious, and professional. But young, and arrogant. So would say the fat, black woman who was an asylum guard and who called him to see a patient having particular trouble. However Jonathan Crane was not the cool young man this fat guard saw, nor was he the psychologist that the business men or his colleagues saw.

He majored in human fear, and took his career as a psychologist because he was a brilliant sadist with certain ideals among his desires that such a career could give him. Brought to his mental position by his childhood, tortured to shame and depression. Causing him to look into himself, and into the minds of his torturers. And for what he saw, Crane grew to deeply respect the human mind, a thing he believed, was able to control the entire body when it has decided too. And for this he sought to control the mind, by fear, as his was once controlled.

Jonathan Crane was truly a violently dangerous and menacing man. Young man, should you wish.

So he lived a life where he found satisfaction in the fear of others, as he was made to be fearful of others in his childhood. He carried this emotion to certain levels of action. Levels that made him a certain monster, and presented him a certain alter ego. A being made not by him, but from him by the taunting of others. However, he gave a certain attraction that caused others to not see the potential of the malignant beast he was.

She did not. She saw nothing as he walked out of the court way door room ten feet in front of her. He was Dr. Crane. The psychologist whose first name she assumed she would never know, for she had no pretensions of calling upon him. Whether she would learn his name by question, or by seeing it on some desk or door name-plate. And as he stopped to allow her pass, she ignored him. Not from a certain dislike, but simply, because she did not truly see him. Though she did see the woman who followed him, which did not matter anyway.

Crane however did not take his gaze off of the passing woman as Rachel Dawes spoke in her arrogant voice behind him.

Crane had distaste from Ms. Dawes. For she matched his own arrogance, and this annoyed him. However, when he looked at her, he saw just a girl who was somehow an assistant District Attorney, and who constantly rivaled his decisions in the sentencing of his patients. This meant little to his actions and she would not affect him, but it also annoyed him. Rachel Dawes far too often overstepped her boundaries into the realm of his sadism, but Crane's intelligence and self control always guided her back out.

However, though Crane is an example of an almost inhumane malevolence, he had patience, and was charming, but exact. Three traits he purposed to her in dismissing her as he left her in the crowded hallways with a quick comment to both her, and her boss, the actual DA. And as he left her standing, his aura unchanged, he exited the building in the same calm nonchalance.

But he continued to think of the woman he watched as she passed before him blindly. He knew her; she was a patient one of his colleagues had treated. She had social problems and an eating disorder, but nothing that really required professional help other than her own discomfort. But the counselor was A certain psychologist that Crane had called upon for details of another client that would be transferred to him.

However, this psychologist had talked of one of his patients to Crane as they were dining and had finished the business of the other patient. The psychiatrist had bored Crane the entire night at the dinner conference. Particularly as he explained the client he had just finished working with before the dinner. A 23 year old who he had found particularly attractive, and wished to try and talk her off his mind, and the arousal he would find as he would think of her.

Crane found little interest in emotional attraction. Satisfying himself with unattached sessions of physical intercourse. He never had an actual emotional attachment to anyone. And he controlled his physicality with ease that very few men could.

But the description of profession and face matched her. She was a student practicing to be a psychologist majoring in dreams. Why see was seeing a counselor seemed strange to him as she was studying to have a similar career herself. But, the area she studied still required certain interaction with different types of minds, including criminal minds, which would explain her presence in a courthouse. And her body which a man would give his kingdom for matched the detailed explanation the psychologist described. Including how he imagined entwining his fingers through her natural brown hair usually tied into a knot or held by a band at the back of her thin neck. A neck richly darker than her upper body and pale stomach that was inside the light fabric of her loose low necked white shirt, hanging low next to the grey pants of similar silk material.

But as he watched her, Crane took in other things the psychologist did not describe, the rich make-up-less olive of her face, brightened instead by the sweetness of clean body oil. The dryness of delicate lips, something he briefly imagined softening with his own mouth. And the common simplicity of her eyes, but which expressed intelligence that others did not. The nipple that exposed the fact she wore no bra. And the softness of her shoulder. Her name was Nichols. But the psychologist had not told Crane her first. However, this did not matter for he had decided that he would meet her the moment he recognized her.

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**Reviewers will be given a chance to drive the actual batmobile**

_(takes place the second tueday of next week)_


	2. Chapter two

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Near the end of the Nichols session with her counselor, Dr. Crane entered the building and walked past the appointment counter. Ignoring the attractive secretary who tried to gather his attention to herself for both business reasons and her own personal attraction. 

The week before he had called to ask the time of Ms. Nichol's appointment the next week with young Dr. Han, claiming her as one of his patients. And arrived the following week, Tuesday, 50 minutes after her appointment was to begin at 3:00, and ten until it was to end. It was now 3:54, as he followed the glass stairs up to the floor of the location of Dr. Han's room.

Entering the modern hallway lined with walls and doors on one side, and floor to ceiling windows on the other. He presently moved to the side of the door, and pulled out a file of a patient as he leaned back against the wall on one foot, waiting for Nichols to exit the room as he overlooked the file. She remained in the room until 4:06, and Crane instantly lifted his eyes from the file as soon as the door knob began to turn from room 206.

Presently she began to step out of the room continuing a discussion with Dr. Han; she was dressed very simply in a green long sleeve polo and brown flare skirt, once more bra-less and without makeup. At this moment Crane began to walk forward, feeling for her actions rather than watching her. And after ending her conversation she fell into place ten feet behind him as he passed her and the office, he noted she was walking in long strides. He turned at the elevator and yet though he could well see her, he pressed the down button without turning to acknowledge her. However, he smiled inwardly to notice that she had him.

Corrine Nichols had spent the last hour explaining her social anxieties to a psychiatrist to strangely would not look at her. However, she dismissed the matter rather than dwell upon it, for its meaning was something she had experienced so very often.

She had recently started to overcome the eating disorder that she had also come to the counselor for, and now weighed 108 pounds at 5.3 ft and 23 yrs, having been able to control her eating, and lose weight that had continually built up despite the very low amounts of food she had been eating at meals, despite her binging for the past year. And as the hour began to end she started to allow Dr. Han to do most of the talking, when he would only looked at her when mandatory, and in short stolen glances.

However, when the hour had ended and as she was standing in the doorway to exit, he rapidly tried to continue his report of her actions, much of which he had already previously discussed. An act of which she had grown far too bored of.

Once she had finally been allowed to leave, she fell in line behind another man walking down the hallway. A man she at first had no interest in and gave no acknowledgement to. However, the way in which he walked, and the subtleness of his unseen gaze as he looked out the windows slowly grew upon her until she was watching him as he was feeling for her. Not in attraction, but rather in intrigue. But as he paused to turn towards the elevator at the end of the hall, she saw his face, young and appealing. He wore designer glasses, and a simple but expensive suit. Donning a sweater under his jacket to hide his raw slenderness.

When he turned to look at her after pressing the button, she smiled softly. Not intraced as others would have been should he have looked at them with such an open and welcoming expression. But offhandedly, curious, but also momentarily calm and at ease, which would not have been different whether she was or wasn't in his presence. Something not many others truly were, should they think about it. However, he did purpose a very different aura in her company.

The elevator door slid open and he did not move to enter, waiting for her to do so first, not taking his cool gaze from her until she had stepped into the compartment, and he followed, walking forward to stand at her side.

At this point, she noted that he was not very tall, something she would not have expected considering the air she had breathed from him. But she felt comfortable next to him, and rather liked the smell of him. He did not wear cologne and this she favored as few men did not.

Then the doors slid shut and he turned his gaze to her, a calm smile playing on his lips. She returned his gaze but without the smile. "I presume that you are one of Dr. Han's patients?" his voice was cool, but had an attractive quality. She smiled now in response, and spoke herself, "Yes, you know him?". Crane turned his gaze away to the door but nodded, not breaking his smile, "I have had the pleasure, I needed information on one of his other patients who will evetually be transferred into my care." He paused, and looked back at her, and gave her a smiling nod. "Jonathan Crane."

Corrine continued to study his steady face, which had not changed at all. "I have heard of you. It's an honor to meet such an accomplished psychologist who is at such a young age." She turned away, having found herself in a position where she did not know what to say.

She had heard of him, and had as been before told, not expected to ever learn the full name which he had just given her. And she was not sure she wanted to continue this conversation, because what she had heard of this man in cool rumor, was not something she found appealing.

However, he spoke once more and disrupted her in confidence and a short silence that had been beginning to fall. "Yet, you still have not told me your name, though you know who I am, and my nature of my career." His voice was amused, inviting, it was not something she wanted to ignore, yet she would feel much more comfortable if it was not there at all.She breathed in and turned to look at him, to find he was watching her, quietly and softly waiting for what he desired. A face that she found an attraction to. "Corrine Nichols." She turned away immediately after saying this and looked at the level 1 button which was glowing softly, they were just descending from level 4.

His voice was expected, and unwanted but hoped for at the same time. She wanted silence, which was who this man was, but not presently portraying, and to get home, but she also found something very interesting in him. "Ah, I believe that Good Dr. Han has mentioned you, a psychology student specializing in dreams." The elevator landed and the doors opened.

She looked at him one last time, and he opened his arm for her to exit. "It was a pleasure to meet you." She did not move immediately, but watched him unsure of if she wanted him to see her smile. And in the end decided against it but rather nodded and walked forward out of the elevator towards the exit, Pulling her hair out of the bond that held it at the base of her neck as she did so. An action Crane watched with a certain amount of controlled emotion.

Crane has no intentions of what is known as "stalking" the woman Corrine, nor in inducing any of his sadism upon her in actions or words. He is enchanted by her. By her quietness, her shyness. She was beautiful, in many ways, and he felt an emotion for her he had for no other. His actions this day were but that of curiosity. And he would not make a same movement of finding her, and unknowingly of her, forcing her into a conversation. But he would meet her again.

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**Reviewers will be given tickets to Prime Gardens, Six flag amusement park in Nicaragua**

_(tickets may not be used until 2034)_


	3. Chapter three

**And may this first chapter make you girls out there happy.**

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One week later he did. Dr. Crane was once more at the City Courthouse watching the conviction of a man he intended to soon place in his asylum instead of in prison. He was focused on this, sitting forward in one of the wooden benches, his hand propped casually under his chin lifting his face upwards towards the convict. 

He appeared unquestionably calm and attractive, as he sat undisturbed in the quiet courtroom. However, her footsteps moving towards him broke his concentration and the air lingering composedly around him as he watched silently. He turned to glance at Corrine moving down the bench way, and sitting three feet from him. A distance that he found amusing for it was the distance all people stopped at when coming close to him no matter the circumstance. He smiled courteously and nodding without speaking and turned his attention back to the conviction.

She spoke quietly. "I didn't expect to see you." He turned to look at her once more, the smile gone from his face, which was now a face she could not look away from, for uncertainty of what he would do. He leaned towards her and spoke in the same voice he had used before. "Let's speak in the hallway." She only looked at him for a long moment, but eventually she nodded hesitantly and gradually followed without question as he rose and swiftly exited the room despite his calm appearance.

She found him leaning against the wall next to the door-way in a similarly crowded hallway as the first time he had seen him. He straightened as she approached and smiled once more. "Is there something you wanted?" She was taken back by this, for she had, but had not expected such a reaction, but would have thought to have still been in the courtroom sitting next to him observing the trial she did not need to be at. "I..." She paused, and continued to watch him solemnly. Unsure of what to say. He smiled softly though and nodded. "Perhaps we could talk elsewhere?" She did not know what to say, or what to do, but nodded without consideration. He continued to smile.

"Come with me."

She stared at him, but eventually moved forward and walked beside him as he moved in the same stride out of the courthouse, across the street, and down to a nearby cafe. He asked for two seats in a crisp, unquestionable request, and they were seated outside in back under an umbrella and brought water glasses and a basket of wheat bread and butter. Of which he completely ignored as he watched her from across the table.

To break the silence as they walked to the cafe, he had questioned her of being a student and the potential conversation of her study of dreams in a level and politely concerned voice. But as he sat watching her, he was silent, waiting. This broke Corrine's concentration of keeping the appearance she so normally possessed. And drew her to do exactly the opposite of her usual reactions in a normal situation. She started speaking to him about simple topics, such of his business, and continuing on the subject of her own present life. She gradually grew to feel less uncomfortable, or unconfident around him as she began to speak to him. But lacking an understanding of his interest in her, and therefore, unsure of what to say or how to act.

This was something he noted, for she was like porcelain. Beautiful and fragile. He loved this about her. For she did not fear him, and he did not want to make her do so. His cold sadism before her was non-existent.

"When did you graduate from School?" A simple question, similar to the rest she had been asking today. "Four and a half years ago."… "It seems soon?" He smiled at her curiosity. "It is, but I excelled in my classes, and therefore took less hours and was able to step over a few that are typically required, I was granted… a few polite exceptions." Corrine smiled with a vague emotion, as if not sure what to think. "My Professors also tended to favor me."

Lacing her fingers, Corrine leaned forward and listened quietly, continuing to smile as he talked. Not considering that Dr. Crane said very little, if nothing of his life before his college years. As he sat opposite of her, listening and answering quietly, he studied her. As she did him.

Corrine no longer felt the subtle forms of discomfort around him that she previously had. And her curiosity of him had changed from what he would do in action, to who he truly was. He appeared immaculately genuine. Something she appreciated about him. And as she sat before him, she began to feel a continually growing attraction, more than just the physical attraction she had originally felt outside Dr. Han's office.

However, she could not understand why she was sitting here, smiling at him, and discussing everyday matters with a stranger she barely knew. And with every word, feeling closer to him, though she could find no way he was causing this, other than sitting there, watching her in a way she could remember no other watching her like. But two hours passed, and to keep from feeling awkward they decided to end their conversations and go separate ways.

Walking together out of the cafe, Corrine continued to remain three feet from Crane, who had asked to be called Jonathan. However as they stepped outside of the exit, Crane subtly stepped into this boundary until he was incredibly close to her. This paralyzed Corrine, not necessarily from fear, however she immediately braced, but she allowed him to touch her cheek and hold her arm as he whispered quietly into her ear. His lips briefly touching her dangling earring. "I would love to meet you again." Corrine did not respond, but looked at him as he turned his gaze towards her, his face slowly retreating. In the end she nodded, looking at the ground as she did so, he smiled, his fingers still resting between her cheek and her neck. Then sliding slowly away, he turned, and walked in the opposite direction without looking back.

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**Reviewers will be given a actual batmask completly identical to the mask in Batman Begins**

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	4. Chapter four

**Movin on, movin on...**

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That night Corrine lay in bed, her hair layered over her pillow that was dappled by moonlight spilling unevenly through the window. She thought only about him, as she had when she had earlier lain on the couch reading a novel but not seeing any of the words. She was enchanted by him now. By his smooth touch and voice, that felt as if something it held else more than the truth, but something inviting and lovely. By his eyes, completely the opposite of her own bland hazel irises. And of his face. Nothing else. 

Crane sat quietly in one of his apartment's living room chairs. He had returned that night from a certain outing required by a peculiar & intriguing employment proposition. He did not think of Corrine now, as he had for the past few days. His jacket was discarded near his briefcase, charred and giving a strong stench of smoke entwined with petrol. He was slouched now in his chair, wearing black pants, a collared shirt, and the usually donned thin under sweater-vest. His glasses resting on the side table and his right hand propping his head layered by dark hair. His eyes were closed as he went over a certain detail of the night continually, a note book and pen laying on his lap with his peculiar handwriting dating a newly inserted entry. Every so often however, he would open his eyes, and his mind would wander to Corrine. And in time he fell asleep in this position, caught between two concerns.

Eight hours later, as Corrine walked from her apartment at 7am, closing the door behind her; she felt a hand on her stomach from behind her. She turned instantly and reached for him. Finding his hair with curling fingers she pressed herself against him as his hand that was on her abdomen moved to her lower back, his other to her neck underneath her wet, recently showered hair.

However, she did not move any further than this and Crane did not ask her to. She only looked at him quietly. And he breathed her in, loving her. Listening quietly, his face expressed only that of unperturbed acceptation.

"How did you know where I live?" she asked slowly, not truly considering the idea of Dr. Jonathan Crane looking her up in Gotham's Yellow Pages. But his response relieved her, if subconsciously, "I didn't, this is by coincidence." Corrine smiled softly at this and moved closer into his reach. "I want you to be here again in three hours. I do not have time to see you until then."

Crane had momentarily closed his eyes, but at this he opened them and looked directly at her. "Are you sure? I do not need that." But Corrine nodded, allowing the soft glow on her lips to continue. "Please." Crane watched her quietly for a moment, then nodded, and held on for just a moment before letting her go. At this, she turned away and walked down the way he came. He watched her before continuing to move towards Falcone's house.

Dr. Crane sat before Falcone, listening without any amusement to the humored words Falcone offered him in terms of Crane's manager's orders. The control of his gaze resting violently, in it's silence on the Crime Lord.

Crane continually thought incredibly little of Falcone. A man who indeed understood how to get himself what he desired of whatever category, but not of enough intelligence to distinguish the difference between what could be a mistake or accomplishment in gaining his desire. A characteristic which placed him in his position of present power, and under the arctic watch of Crane, sitting unseen before him.

Crane, having ignored Falcone's rambling about his preparation for a certain import, which should be directed to his boss as a certain satisfaction, leaned forward and captured Falcone's presently vague attention. Falcone paused immediately any notion of movement or speech, and began to find himself held by the man he once thought an arrogant young bastard. As the fat guard did.

"Perhaps you should stop, the direction's and order's you gave to your men on this particular import's handling are hardly worth my consideration or that of my manager, which I feel I must announce before you say any more. Certainly more enough to humiliate yourself later. All he desires, is for his requests to be carried out without question, and without manipulation of the original play."

He paused, and leaned back into his chair. Slowly, announcing his comfort in the present situation. But he smiled malignantly, and continued in brief and indisputably smooth words. "However, I have decided to accept the request you asked for in our last meeting. Perhaps you have scratched my back, but I have decided to scratch yours after all none-the-less. I will be taking charge of the operation soon, allowing you to rest and find a individual amount of peace for yourself." At this, Falcone made no response, but continued to watch him, for he had no response to give other than the previous Apprehensive stare. The undisturbed growing ease in Dr. Cranes features gave truth to this. As did the darkness within each facial shadow of his softly grinning face.

Corrine sat in the middle of the crowded classroom, listening to the lecture her professor was giving with the screenplay on brain development.

She had found herself completely in control of her emotions at the moment. Satisfied by the notion of what would take place in one hour and twenty minutes. So she sat comfortably on the wooden chair, relaxed and at ease as she scribbled names and areas of interest of the lecture into her leather notebook, consistently looking up to the slides of certain images in relation to the class. Absorbing the slowly strung sentences the aged Professor spilled in his heavy drawl.

She continued this for the next fifty minutes in the dark large room, hung with the scent of mold, Lysol, and several different colognes and hair fragrances. When the class was dismissed, Corrine rose, coughing and gathering her case and pens, and exited the room without speaking. She immediately made her way down 26th st. which would lead her home, ignoring the distant calls of a girlfriend as she walked home down the congested walk.

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**I altered Cranes conversation slightly after studying him a bit more, and made a few improved changes to the structure.**

**Reviewers will be given each a Dr. Crane/Scarecrow Action Figure.**

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	5. Chapter five

**Note: Hmmmm… well… I must admit, I might have had to of taken out a certain section of the original text for this chapter… to humor fanfiction by the fact my rating can't go any higher than it presently is. –sniggles- but enjoy.**

**To: Angelvamp777, Thankyou for your review. Yes, perhaps Crane will become a lovesick poodle after all, -chuckles at idea-, well, mmmm. However, my intention was to give him emotion, but also to continue the idea of his usual self, which of course can be very intriguing as I'm sure many girls, such as me, know.**

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He was waiting for her at her doorway, once more leaning against the building on one foot with the other crossed in front of the first. 

Thestingof his eyes was directed to the footsteps of others as they passed before him. Men ignoring him, and women giving him many varied reactions, of which very few were not of suggested interest, yet not of them even paused or quietly greeted him with more than a passing glance. He did not in return,regard them in anyway, rather allowing his attention to sift on something elsewhere. He appeared illusive, and yet, a being that no person should want to approach for whatever reason should occupy their mind.

Corrine watched this chilling aura that surrounded his relaxed frame as she approached him. Hesitance slowing her step rapidly from the casual pace she had just previously moved with.

She did not know this man...

She reached him but not press against him as she had that morning, but stood there, her case in one hand, the other tracing the top of her arm that held the case in uncertainty. His gaze now rested on her, something completely different from what it just had been. And slowly, he lifted her face with his thumb and index finger gently pushing up her chin.

She looked up from his chest to his eyes in correspondence with her head being lifted. Gradually, the tenseness in her back began to loosen, and she tried a smile despite the unfeeling in her face.

He however made not more notion of movement, but waited, patiently and quietly accepting what would come. So when she spoke, he only nodded, and followed as she turned the key in the locked apartment door, and entered behind her, closing the door behind slowly. She continued walking without looking back at him, leading him up to the second to last level, and into a simply, yet elegantly furnished white room.

Here she dropped her keys on the dark wood cabinet to her right, her case under it, and walked into a kitchen. Also white, as every room in this apartment was. Illuminated by the light falling in from massive widows lining the walls. Emotionlessly, she took a long, tall glass from the counter, and filled it with tap water, which she began to drink as she turned to him. Finding himstill patiently watching her from the doorway of the hallway. Lowering the glass, she carried it with her as she moved past him into the immediately large bedroom to the left and the firstright door in the hall. Without turning she set the glass down on the dresser as she entered. Pausing behind her, he lifted the glass to his own lips and drank slowly. She smiled quietly at this, at his charm, his calm and his ease.

Corrine continued to feel a certain amount of apprehension, but she felt him so different than she ever had before. Precise, and completely on with her and her cares.

She turned now and lightlyfound him for the second time, but between the moments of contact of their kiss, he whispered, genuinely. "I do love,"..."I see now." This caused her to smile more widely, and opening his eyes briefly enough to hold this a truth, she grew more certain in her actions.

His fingers trailed the edges of her bright face and over the eyelashes of her closed eyes as they lay in bed sometime later. Her mouth open as she breathed hard, but quietly for the next few minutes. Each of them basked in the warmth of the other's presence. Their skin laced by cool moisture and late morning sun, swimming on them through the old and imperfect widow glass. Entwined within each others arms and legs, a braid of fingers, and his pillow the softness of her long hair. Subtly she opened her eyes, and slipped a hand onto his firm upper stomach, pressing her brow to his chest, and breathing into his ribcage.

"You love me?" the question was tired and yet entirely sincere.

He smiled, and spoke quietly, his voice not at all of that which he had used two hours before, when he was not yet with her. "I had once believed I would never know emotional attachment." he paused and stroked her cheekbone gently, watching her. "But, yes, I do. Yet, it is very strange to me." She smiled, comfortable and at ease, and presently fell to sleep. He lay with her until she woke 45 minutes later.

When Corrine woke, she found Jonathan exactly where he had been, silently and easily looking out the widow. His body, face, and eyes a beautiful contrast to the brightness of the white room of dark wood floors and plaster walls, engulfed in the warmth of noon, and screeches of the better areas of Gotham below. Shifting, she tightened her leg that was draped over his knee and laced her arms around his neck. Smiling, he returned his gaze to her and rolled onto his back, drawing Corrine with him until she rested partially on his stomach and chest. Where she remained, and where they watched each other in a sort of indescribable softness, and slowly, they met in an easy kiss. The kiss lasted for an amount of time neither could count to for it was neither long nor short, growing so that they would softly draw their lips apart only when they could no longer breath the others breath, and returning as if they feared they had been away too long.

It ended quietly, and Corrine's face slipped once more to his neck. "Let's get up." A soft voice spoken into his right ear. He nodded and waited for her to slip over him, taking the white bed sheet with her, and wrapping herself in it as she rose. He looked up at her as she stood at the bedside waiting, but after a moment he rose sinuously, reaching for his pants as he did so. Slipping them on, Crane followed her out of the room into the kitchen, where she poured herself a leftover cup of espresso and shoved it into the stainless steel microwave for 50 seconds.

However, he once more stopped at the doorway, again not passing it into the kitchen, but rather leaning against it and looking at her with certain thoughtful depth. She in turn leaned against the counter supporting herself with her arms bent backward and her fingers curling around its edge, and returned the gaze, though in a different way, grinning silently as she waited for her coffee. Gathering it when the microwave beeped, she moved towards him. But Jonathan smiling, turned away andstepped over thewood floorsto sink unto the wide sage colored living room couch. Corrine slipped on top of him, resting her back which was bare of the sheet from the small up against his chest.

Sipping her coffee she offered some to him every so often, which he drank as she held the cup, and then pressing his brow into the back of her head.

"I still don't really know who you are."

He smiled; her tone was playful but sincere. "No, I would hardly say you do... What would you like to know?" "Tell me about your parents, your childhood, who you have loved before... Who you really are." His smile ended, and though something else may have as well, his visible easy comfort did not. He spoke without emotion, in sparing & untainted words unlike his usual array. "I lived a simple childhood. My parents married and as I know, remain so. I do not continue to speak with them, nor have so for several years. We lived in the suburban and had a life that fitted the area. My mother stayed home and performed the duties some people believe a woman is intended to perform. My father owned a car dealership. They were appropriate, caring and loving, if slightly ignorant... However, I had little if no complications with them. School was acutely undemanding for me. I was never challenged and always given awards I never earned because of my academic records. So I entered college with a very comfortable path laid before me, which seemed to have continued throughout my life."

He paused to rest in the silence for a moment, which Corrine did not interrupt. However, she did not see the minuscule strain in his face as he paused, remembering thoughts he did not acknowledge. Yet he continued in the same manner, raising his head to lay it back on a cushion behind him.

"Throughout my life I had a held deep interest in the mind and of some of it's certain qualities of trait. I believe this led me to begin my chosen path of career, and as I had studied the morals and ideas of this career since a young age, it came easier for me to understand than others."

Crane fell quiet, closing his eyes as he lay beneath her light frame. He ceased to go on, yet Corrine did not press the matter. "But who have you loved before? You didn't say..." Corrine's question caused him to open his eyes once more, he did not smile, and yet there was no worry in his voice when he spoke.

"I haven't, I have never truly know such emotional attachment as I have said earlier, prior to meeting you." She responded quietly, "Why did you want to know me... meet me on the elevator?" This caused Crane to smile humouredly, and he bent his head forward to reach her neck, brushing it softly with his sharp face. "I didn't meet you then... you had already introduced yourself to me before that." She smiled, barely remembering passing him for the first time in the courthouse. Then shifted her weight to position herself in a closer position to him, and laid her head of his shoulder and closed her eyes.

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**Reviewers will be given gift certificates to Ahl Kung Die, a thai resturant in rural Thailand**

**Note: Alright, this is whereI originally stopped. But I want YOU to tell me if I should continue. -Winks- And brownie points for those who actually like this jumble of thrown together sentences not written correctly and strange words that dont really work. -coughs- But if you have read so far, I must thank you. -mooch- AndI hope you enjoyed!**

**However, to ease my unhappy soul,I will be going over the story and trying to save most of the corrupt writing, and add in a few new sences in according to the movie, particularly of Dr. Crane. I am not much interested in Corrine other than as a-Emotion maker-. :)**


	6. Chapter six

**Note: Ah! Well, I have finally gone beyond my original story and am updating. I wanted to use this as an introductory chapter. There is not too much that takes place, but it involves much more of Dr. Crane & who he really is, which is what I want to start striving for. Though of course bringing in Corrine fairly often, though probably more in Crane's thought rather than in presence. But I hope you enjoy, and I will be adding the next chapter shortly!**

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Crane remained with Corrine the rest of the day. Spending their time comfortably within the protection of the walls of her apartment providing extrication from the presence of others. Sharing idle conversations over plates of light fruits and breads, and laughing quietly throughout the day in unity with each other and their emotions. Constantly within each others reach, transfer gentle touches with light fingers and frequent ardent embraces.

In this time, Jonathan found himself ignoring the lingering thought, that he didn't thoroughly understand the notion why he had such an amorous enticement to Corrine, despite the physical appeal he found in her quiet face, and light body. True she looked at him, and saw a man who lived and breathed as she did. But the was hardly a reason for certain areas of his psyche to so openly accept her, and acknowledge her with a sentiment he had never truly known after his early youth. However, disregarding this idea that would soon rest upon his shoulders, he marveled in her presence. Perhaps not like a normal lover, thoughtlessly in love, but sincerely devoted and caring. Entwined within her actions and emotional expressions. Coveting her, if only for her to be near him, smiling as purely as she had been all day since that morning.

Sitting in one of the white armchairs in front of the window with her back resting against him, they watched the darkening shapes of the city, layered with shadow, and constant movement. They had sat in comfortable silence for a period of time, and her nonchalant question was a sudden break to the quietness.

"When do you have to leave?" Crane breathed in quietly, considering the question then smiled lightly and shifted his weight slightly,

"Soon…"

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes," He paused for a moment, considering the next day. "I can be here tomorrow afternoon."

Corrine looked back at him quietly, the muscles and tendons in her neck lifting away delicately and she turned her head. "I will be here." Closing her eyes a rested her face on his shoulder as Crane absentmindedly began to rub her arm in short movements with his thumb. He let her lay like this for awhile. Remaining still and easing his breathing to match hers as she lay in thought, her brown eyes open, yet unfocused.

After perhaps ten minutes Crane began to rouse, and a soft smile came to her lips.

"Alright."

Smiling in return, he waited until she rose, now wearing a white robe and her hair tied back into a careless knot. He stood as she stepped forward and began to stretch, which he watched quietly, with the same depth he had as he watched her in the kitchen this morning. Reach forward he slipped his fingers around her shoulders and she turned in reaction. Stepping forward he met her in a light embrace, and kissed her softly. Yet it was a quick kiss, and her face slipped to the angle of his neck after but a moment. Smiling and breathing quietly, she remained there for a minute, then stepped back and slid onto the couch. Crane turned quietly and walked into the bedroom to don his business clothes. Returning to the main room he watched her as she lay on the couch with her eyes closed. Laying a kiss in her hair he collected his case and stepped out of the door and down the dim hallway.

Exiting the building he glanced at his watch in the last hour of warmth and daylight. I was five-forty-two. Though, It meant little to him; he had developed a schedule that evolved around his comfort the past few years, enabling him to discard worry of dates and times of appointments.

Pausing his stride to signal a cab, he glanced over his shoulder at the crowds of Gotham, and the stone apartment he had come from within. As the cab pulled up he caught the gaze of the driver, a middle aged Italian guy, sitting lazily in his seat, one beefy hand gripping the wheel, and the other resting on the arm rest by his side. Crane however made no notion of conversation, and broke his gaze with the driver who was beginning to express a defensive posture at Crane's severe nonverbal notice. Opening the door he lowered himself into the cab while casually requesting Arkham.

The cab pulled away before his door was closed, though Crane now retook his stare at the driver. A certain curiosity dwelling upon the man sitting against the pleather seat clinging to the damp and worn collared shirt, his back and neck perspiring heavily and his eye twitching in an involuntary way. However, Crane turned away and redirected his gaze to the contents of his case which he opened quickly with brief unbuckling sounds. The contents were not unusual, descriptive booklets, files, paper and pens. It was his usual case, the others he required only on certain outings. He directed his gaze to flipping through a file containing the court procedure of one of Falcone's men. A petty drug dealer with little influence but containing information and certain skills that could not be wasted in jail, whether or not the drug bust was due to his own ignorance.

Every so often though, Crane would allow his gaze flicker to the rearview mirror to find the driver's eyes moist with his own sweat locked on him, studying tentatively, as if the man felt a particular reason to feel curiously cautious around this specific passenger. This indeed humored Crane very much, although he did not express his amusement openly.

As the cab neared the street which would wind to the entrance of Arkham, Crane drew a small black plastic box from within his case and placed in into his lap after closing his larger case and setting it at his feet. Leaning forward abruptly, causing the driver to flinch, he placed his right arm on the back of the passenger seat.

"Mm, would you mind passing the main entrance and taking the next left into the parking garage? I'm afraid I must attend to the security in it before entering the actual building. I apologize and will tip if for inconvenience." The driver nodded curiously and passed the Asylum gates, turning instead at a dirt road taking it to the far right corner of the building where the parking garage was located. He nervously noted that there were no guards at the entrance post, but with Crane's nod he drove past it and in the direction Crane requested.

Crane stepped out of the car quickly when it parked next to the small security office, opening the small box as he did so and extracting one of its contents. The driver stared straight ahead, concentrating on exiting the building as quickly as possible so he did not see this. However, he glanced back after a moment once Crane had stepped out and noticed Crane's briefcase was still on the back set floor.

"Hey Mister. Y…" But he was interrupted by Crane who had walked around the car and was now bent over in his face, his eyes amused.

"Yes?" His voice was imploring, but equally amused as his stare.

"You left your box."

"Oh?" His voice remained amused and questioning, however he straightened for an instant, as if to open the back door and reach for it. But he swiftly bent back down and reached for the man's left arm still draped over the steering wheel. He pulled it to him and skillfully injected a small amount of pale liquid into the most visible vein before the man could retaliate. The proficientness and speed in which Crane had acted had stunned the already anxious man, and it would be a few seconds before he would have reacted at all. However, in those few seconds his body tightened and contracted, and he began to loose focus as he swiftly drifted into unconsciousness.

Crane replaced the empty syringe into the box with its filled twin, and made his way to the elevator where an arm chair rested. Unfolding it, he wheeled it to the cab, and slid the man into it with a peculiar amount of ease considering his physical condition which would not have illustrated much strength. Pushing the chair a few feet away he took the keys from the igniter and reached around to the back to grab his case, which he placed in the object compartment in the back of the chair. Closing the door behind him, while pocketing the keys, he wheeled the Italian to the elevator, and pressed the up button.

Entering the elevator, he requested level 2 basement, where the underground cells were, of which Arkham's employees had access to. Exiting the elevator when it had landed, he wheeled the man down the aisle and took a right turn where he stopped at the first cell on the right. Moving forward from behind the wheelchair he pushed his security card into the door and a key slot opened where he slid one of seven differently shaped iron keys on a ring that he extracted from his case, into. The door opened, and he returned to the back of the wheel chair and directed it in. He took the man into a corner of the rather large white washed cell room. Furnished with an iron bunk, chair, sink and toilet. There however was no security camera within this room, for it was a room Crane used for his own purposes, and one only he had access to. Setting his case on the bunk, he looked through a file that did not concern the Asylum, but rather a certain coded object or thing referred to as testing B-14. After lifting the first to pages, he pushed his glasses up his nose, and replaced the file. Buckling the case, he exited the room, and locked the door before returning to the elevator and pressing button level 3 where his office was located.

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**Reviewers will receive models of the new playstation4's**

**Crane: I took your advice for now; I can see why you think the rating could be T. However, things may became a little more sexual which will make me take it back to M. Yes, I hope to have an interesting result on Corrine, despite the fact this is a lil bit more about Dr. Crane. –licks-**

**SpadesJade: -Showers in rainbow colored sprinkles- Oh you flatter me too much! I personally like my writing style, but I find that it is very different and have trouble with it at times, so your compliment is like being snogged by Dr. Crane himself. –coughs- not that I am particularly attracted to him of course. –shifty gaze- lol, no, thank you very much. I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.**

**MissRyss03: Thanks for the review. Yes, I very much understand why you would say it is hard to follow. I find that my writing is very sketchy and detached, not quite the liquid fluentness I would like, which sort of causes my story to be knobbly and well… hard to follow. Lol.**


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